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Tears filled her bulging eyes.
“Does that hurt? That bullet in your cunt? God, I hope so. I hope it hurts more than all the pain my beautiful Catharina felt every time you allowed her to have something put inside her that she didn’t want.”
She couldn’t talk to me. She couldn’t focus on anything but the intense throbbing between her legs as her pain took over every sense. She slobbered and rolled away from me.
“I’ll leave you be. Don’t bleed out too quickly.”
The little bag couldn’t be left behind, so I took it and convinced myself the pull to it was gone.
The hag started screeching, and it got louder and louder. It was so loud that even as I left the room, I could hear it above the ringing in my ear.
I didn’t ask her if she’d messaged Pencil Dick.
I didn’t care.
All I cared about was her suffering.
I dropped down the stairs, the noise fading out with each step. When I got to the bottom, it stopped, and who the fuck knew if it was because the ringing overpowered her, or if she had died.
And who the fuck cared.
Chapter 14
Catharina
Iwiped the bubbles from my hair with a small towel. Its pink color matched the soft flannel material that was wrapped around me. While the color did seem odd for a man’s bathroom, it matched the accessories that added color to his black room.
I stepped out of the bathroom to find Kate, my babysitter, sitting on Remi’s bed. Her blonde hair was pulled back, revealing the round apples of her cheeks. She had a gentle smile, and I hated it. I hated that she felt the need to tread carefully with me.
I didn’t want to be treated like a victim.
That was not what I was.
I was a survivor.
A survivor with survivor’s guilt but still a survivor.
“I brought some clothes over from Beyond Heaven, where I work. Remi wasn’t sure of your size. He said you were kinda tall but small.”
Tall? I looked tiny at Remi’s side. I didn’t comment.
“I appreciate that. Thank you. However, I think I’ll just steal another of Remi’s hoodies.” I shrugged. “They’re what I find comfortable.” Because they hide my body.
“That’s your choice, but the option of women’s underwear might interest you.”
I couldn’t tell her that it wouldn’t. It would feel restricting, like I was in some kind of clothing cage. I didn’t want to be touched down there. Not by hands or material.
“Thank you,” I replied with a false smile that could rival hers.
“Did you need me to take a look at your stitches?”
“I think they’re good. Dr. Rodregez said I’d be okay to wash today, and it isn’t hurting too bad now.”
But I didn’t wash because there were mirrors in Remi’s bathroom, and the second I slipped out of his clothes, I hid behind a towel. I couldn’t look at myself. All the ugly scars staring back at me were just too much right now. Instead, I’d washed my hair in the sink, struggling to avoid the lengths getting caught in the drain.
I wandered inside Remi’s surprisingly huge closet. There was very little pink in here, but I did find one hoodie, and that was what I chose to wear.
I let the towel hide my body until the pink color swamped me, the soft material skating somewhere along my thighs. I pulled the towel down, hooking it over my arm to return it to the rail in the bathroom.
